


A Word for Everything Except for This

by deepsix



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Cliche, Ficlet, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-30
Updated: 2009-05-30
Packaged: 2017-10-04 10:48:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepsix/pseuds/deepsix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Bones hates elevators.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Word for Everything Except for This

Jim spread his palm over McCoy's stomach, fingers pushing at the waistband of his pants, and pressed his mouth into the side of McCoy's neck to keep from laughing. McCoy was strung tight, and even though he responded by tipping his head back, exposing his throat, sliding his fingers into Jim's hair -- it felt too forced.

"You're really not going to die," Jim said.

"Says you," said McCoy. "This is two of my least favorite things in the galaxy combined in one."

"Come on," said Jim. He slid his hand down and mouthed at McCoy's neck. "You don't hate me that much."

"Make it three," McCoy said, but his breath hitched, and Jim knew he was getting somewhere.

"Whatever. I bet the magnetics are just jammed; it'll be fine." Jim pressed the heel of his hand against McCoy's cock -- he was hard, despite the thrill of anxiety running through him. McCoy hated this, Jim knew; McCoy hated it every time that technology failed him, stranding him beyond his control -- but it was also kind of ridiculous, in the sense that this was his life, and getting trapped in a malfunctioning turbolift was kind of the least of his problems. Jim pressed him back, kissed him below the ear. "Here, let me take your mind off of it."

McCoy twisted his fingers against Jim's scalp, not quite encouragement. "I don't need my mind taken off of anything," he said. "If we're going to die, I'd rather be all accounted for."

"Come on," Jim said again. "Even if we were going to die -- which we're not -- at least this way it'll go down as the sexiest death in recorded history." He trailed his mouth down to the curve of McCoy's throat, and he could feel McCoy's pulse stuttering under his lips. "Pun totally intended."

"That wasn't a pun," said McCoy.

Jim lifted his head and looked at him. "No?"

But McCoy was completely full of it, because he didn't even try to stop Jim as he reached into his pants. McCoy let Jim unzip his trousers, palming at him, pushing McCoy's underwear out of the way. There was something restless in the way McCoy's hips canted into Jim's touch, pressing his cock into Jim's hand, and Jim grinned at him, and sunk to mouth at McCoy's cock.

McCoy was always careful about this kind of thing -- would twist his fingers in Jim's hair, but let Jim hold him, Jim's thumbs pressed into the curve of his hipbones, his body furiously still as Jim licked over the head, sliding his lips down the length of his cock. McCoy tasted salty-sweet, and bitter, and the slide of his cock against Jim's tongue was impossibly hot. Jim pushed against him, letting McCoy's dick press against the back of his throat, heavy and slick in his mouth.

But McCoy had never had very good control, and Jim could feel a tremor inching its way through McCoy's body, skittering under Jim's fingers, his lips, his tongue. Their breathing sounded unnatural in the lift, McCoy's uneven and overly sharp, halting as Jim sucked at him. There was something jagged in the twitch of his hips, and Jim curled his fingers against him, steadying. Jim could feel the tension unravelling, McCoy's hands moving restlessly over Jim's scalp, the quiver in McCoy's muscles, vibrating where they touched -- Jim looked up, and there was nothing of that anxiety left in the slackness of McCoy's mouth, the blurred intensity in his eyes.

Jim hummed around him, and watched as the sensation slid through, could tell as McCoy's hips jerked, cock fucking into Jim's mouth -- and when McCoy came, it was with an imprecise noise, cut off as Jim swallowed.

It was another long moment before Jim sat back, and watched again as McCoy tucked himself back in. He nudged McCoy's shoulder with his own when he straightened, and leaned back against the wall alongside him.

"Better?" Jim asked.

McCoy crossed his arms and looked at him, if a bit grudgingly. "Helps," he admitted.


End file.
